Before the Pilot
by redrider6612
Summary: Did you ever wonder what happened between Booth and Brennan before the pilot? This fanfic posits a likely scenario.


CHAPTER 1

Brennan answered her phone on the third ring without taking her eyes from the computer screen. "Brennan"

"Is this Dr Temperance Brennan?" a deep male voice asked.

"This is she. May I help you?" she asked absently.

"Yeah, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI, Major Crimes Investigations, D.C. I was told you might be able to help me identify a murder victim."

This got her attention. The FBI was asking HER for help? This could be interesting. "I'm listening," she said, turning and leaning back in her chair.

"I could have a car there to pick you up within the hour to bring you to the forensics lab here. Is that too soon?"

Brennan shook her head even though she knew he couldn't see her. "No, I need you to bring the remains here. I would prefer to examine them in my lab with my equipment."

There was a pregnant pause, then a sigh on the other end. "I'm sorry, Dr Brennan, but due to the sensitive nature of the case, I'm afraid the remains can't leave our possession. I'm sure the forensics lab here has all the equipment you need. You can bring one associate to assist you."

Brennan's mouth pursed in frustration. "Listen, Agent Booth, I'm sure you're accustomed to getting your way, but this time it's not negotiable. My people and I have the highest security clearance possible. Your 'sensitive' case will be safe with us. If you want my help, the remains will have to be brought here," she finished firmly.

The silence on the line went on so long she wondered if he'd hung up. When he finally spoke, it was with the clipped tones of someone barely holding onto their temper. "I will go over your head, if I have to," he threatened softly.

Brennan felt her temper rise. "Fine. Go right ahead."

"Fine. You'll be hearing from me soon." Then the line went dead. Hanging up, Brennan glared wrathfully at the phone. Insufferable, arrogant man, expecting her to drop everything just because he was going to send a car for her. He needed to learn a little respect.

Dr Goodman strode into her office twenty minutes later, a determined look on his face. Brennan knew what he was going to say before he said it and felt her temper rise again.

"Dr Brennan, the FBI has requested your assistance in a very sensitive case. Their car will be here within the hour."

"I know about their 'sensitive case'. I told Agent Booth that I would be glad to examine the remains here," she said firmly. Dr Goodman might be her boss, but her opinion did carry some weight—usually.

He winced at her sharp tone, but shook his head. "The amount of paperwork required to have the remains transferred here would be prohibitive. It makes more sense for you to go to their facility." He raised his chin at the stubbornness on her face. "Dr Brennan, as a federally funded institution, we have to avail ourselves of every opportunity to prove our worth. I realize this is inconvenient for you—"

"Inconvenient?" she interrupted, holding onto her temper by a thread. "They need MY help! The least they could do is try to be a little accommodating. It would be much easier to do my job with my equipment easily available."

Dr Goodman sighed. "I'm afraid this isn't open to discussion. Please be ready when the car arrives. I'll inform Mr. Addy that he will need to go along to assist." He softened his tone in hopes of alleviating her anger. "Please, Temperance. I would appreciate your cooperation in this situation."

She held his gaze for a long moment, disarmed by his conciliatory tone. Sighing in frustration she rose and grabbed her coat from the rack behind her desk. "Fine, but I'm only going as a favor to you, not because Agent Booth went over my head."

Dr Goodman smiled for the first time since entering her office. "Thank you, Dr Brennan. Please let me know if you need anything." Then he was gone. Curbing the urge to kick something, Brennan retrieved her purse from her desk drawer then went to make sure her kit had everything she would need.

CHAPTER 2

Brennan bent over the remains at the FBI forensics lab and studied the stab wounds in the chest area. Zach stood next to her, looking over her shoulder. She pointed a gloved finger at the wounds.

"See the depth of the wounds? That, together with the number of stab wounds, suggests the murderer was in a rage. We'll know more when we've macerated the skeleton." She glanced up at the coroner's assistant, Mary St. John, who stood across the table. "You are equipped for that, right?"

Ms St. John hadn't said much since Brennan and Zach had come in nearly two hours before. She was small and rather mousy, and Brennan got the impression she was rather awed by her. "Yes, Dr Brennan," she answered quietly with a ghost of a smile. Zach smiled reassuringly at her and she blushed and looked away. 'She's cute' he thought, wondering if he might be able to find the courage to ask her out.

"Good. Zach will take care of that if you'll show him the way," Brennan said as she peeled her gloves off. "I'm going to see if I can find Agent Booth and then I'm going home. Zach, would you please meet me here at 8 a.m.?" Her assistant nodded absently, his gaze fixed on Ms St. John. Brennan touched his arm to get his attention. He jumped a bit, guilty at being caught staring.

"Uh, yes, Dr Brennan, 8 a.m., I'll, uh, I'll be here," Zach stammered. Brennan rolled her eyes, then grabbed her coat and bag on her way out. She was going to have to talk to Zach about staying focused. The lab was no place for flirtation.

Brennan had to ask directions several times before she was able to locate Agent Booth's office. She knocked firmly and moments later got a 'Come in'. The phone was cradled between his shoulder and chin as he took notes. Without looking up, he motioned at the chair in front of his desk. She sat looking around the somewhat cluttered office as he finished his phone call and finally hung up. Chocolate brown eyes met hers and widened a little. He stood and offered his hand and she shook it firmly. She had to look up a bit to meet his eyes, an unusual situation for a woman her height. His suit fit him perfectly and she could see he kept himself fit. 'Now, why did I notice that?' she wondered.

"I'm Dr Temperance Brennan with the Jeffersonian Institute."

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. Have you finished with your examination?" he asked as he sat back down. She's a lot prettier than I expected, he thought. Then he looked into her crystal blue eyes. Nope, scratch that, she's beautiful.

"No, I need to know where the body was found." And stubborn, he added silently.

Agent Booth frowned. "I'm afraid I can't divulge that information due to the people involved. If word got out—"

"I'm not in the habit of discussing cases with anyone outside my team at the Jeffersonian," she stated, clearly insulted by the implication. "And I told you before, I have the highest security clearance. They don't give that to just anyone, you know."

Agent Booth sighed in frustration. "I can't see what it has to do with your examination of the body--"

"I am not in the habit of asking idle questions, either, nor do I enjoy gossip. If you won't give me the information I need to complete my assessment of the case, then I'm done here. Find yourself another forensic anthropologist." She picked up her bag and stood, fully prepared to leave.

Agent Booth leapt to his feet. "Wait, don't go." She paused and he made a conciliatory gesture. "Okay, I'm sorry, please sit down."

Brennan turned back to him and studied his face, trying to gauge his sincerity. He stood, hands on his hips, desperation etched on his handsome face. Finally, she relented, sitting back down. His relief was obvious.

"The body was found by a gardener at Senator Wilmington's estate. The senator's wife had decided she wanted a whole section of the rose garden dug up and new bushes planted."

Brennan frowned, mulling over what he'd told her. "Does she do that often?"

Agent Booth looked puzzled. "Do what?"

"Replant entire sections of the garden," she explained patiently. Was he always this dense?

"I don't know, I didn't ask. Now, back to the body. When do you think you'll have an ID?"

Brennan shook her head. "A couple days at least. My assistant is macerating the skeleton, then I'll have to apply tissue markers and scan all the information and send it over to the Jeffersonian for Angela to input. Of course, if we had the remains AT the Jeffersonian, we could save so much time—" really stubborn, Agent Booth thought, exasperated.

"I told you that isn't an option. Would it help if I told you who we suspect the victim is?" Agent Booth offered with a slight smile.

Brennan's eyebrows shot up. "You know who it is? And you haven't told me? What do you need me for?" She was getting wound up again and Agent Booth rushed on, trying to forestall another attempt to leave.

"I said 'suspect'—I need you to confirm. The Senator was being blackmailed by a woman named April Manning. He'd had an affair with her and she was threatening to tell his wife."

Intrigued, Brennan sat back as she thought about that. "That would explain the apparent rage the murderer felt," she murmured as she stared at a point over his head.

Agent Booth was confused. "Rage?"

"Yes, the victim was stabbed 16 times. The depth of the wounds suggests the murderer was in a rage when they killed the victim. How old was Ms Manning?"

"Twenty-seven. She worked as the Senator's assistant eight months ago. She was let go when their affair ended. Word had gotten around and she was having a hard time finding another job. Then the blackmail started." Deep in thought, he seemed to forget Brennan for several moments.

Clearing her throat, she managed to get his attention again. "If you'll send Ms Manning's stats and photo over to Angela, it will make it easier for her to do her job. Zach and I will return in the morning."

Agent Booth nodded. "Thank you. Get back to me as soon as you've confirmed the ID." His attention went to the file in front of him and Brennan sensed she was being dismissed. She tried not to take it personally. The man had no manners whatsoever, she decided. Without another word, she left.

CHAPTER 3

Several days later, Brennan walked back into Agent Booth's office and put a file on the desk in front of him. Sitting in the chair, she waited for him to read her report. She knew the exact moment he read the most startling part of her findings. His eyes widened then darted up to meet hers.

"You're certain about this?" he asked, and Brennan bristled a bit.

"I'm not accustomed to having my findings questioned, Agent Booth. I wouldn't have put it in my report if I wasn't certain." Her tone was a bit colder than she intended, but she really resented someone questioning her results.

"So the Senator couldn't possibly be the murderer?" He'd been so certain it was Wilmington.

Brennan shook her head firmly. "He's too tall. Ms Manning was murdered by someone her own height. How tall is the Senator's wife?"

Booth frowned. "Five foot six. You think SHE killed Ms Manning?" he asked skeptically. "How do you know how tall the killer is?"

Brennan pointed at the file. "The curf marks on the bones indicate the angle of the knife. The Senator is six foot three. If he had done the stabbing, the angle would have been more acute."

Booth studied her face, but Brennan didn't think he was really seeing her. Finally his eyes snapped to hers and he smiled grimly. "Thank you, Dr Brennan. I appreciate your help with the case." Standing, he offered his hand.

Brennan rose more slowly, realizing with a sinking feeling that he was trying to get rid of her. She ignored his hand.

"Are you going to question the Senator's wife?" she couldn't help asking. It just didn't feel right to be left out of the rest of the case. She wanted to be there when justice was done.

Agent Booth frowned. "She's already been questioned. She has an airtight alibi for the day of the murder. I will do some more checking and question her again, but I don't think she did it."

Brennan suspected he'd already dismissed Mrs. Wilmington as a suspect and Brennan felt that was a mistake. But how could she make him see that?

"Did she know about the affair?"

"Hard to say," Booth said, coming around the desk. It seemed the doctor couldn't take a hint and he'd have to show her the way out. Thanks to her work he had more information about the murderer and the weapon. He didn't really think she could contribute any more. Besides, he'd never done well with partners, preferring to work alone.

Brennan still stood in front of his desk, though she had turned her body to follow his progress. He didn't like the stubbornness in her face. He really didn't want to deal with this. He opened the door, hoping she'd take the hint. She didn't move.

"Agent Booth, I don't think you have much respect for what I do," she said flatly.

Booth sighed. "I told you I appreciated your help. What more do you want?"

"I want to help you find the killer," she insisted.

"There's nothing else you can do. Unless you think further examination of the remains might turn up more information, your job is done."

Brennan shook her head stubbornly. "I think the Senator's wife did it. She had motive and she's the right height. You need to take a closer look at her alibi—"

"You're done, Dr Brennan. Thank you for your help," he said firmly, putting a hand on her arm above the elbow.

Looking down at his hand, she spoke calmly. "I suggest you release my arm. I'm trained in three martial arts disciplines and can have you on the floor before you know what hit you." Her blue eyes met his steadily and he removed his hand, stepping back warily.

"Sorry, I just need to get to work. I'll call you if we ever need your services again," he promised.

Lifting her bag to her shoulder, she cocked her head at him. "Don't bother. I have no interest in working with someone with so little respect for what I do. Good luck with the case," she said sarcastically, clearly frustrated by his denseness. Then she was gone.

Booth dropped into his chair, frowning as he stared at the spot she had occupied until a moment ago. Was she right? Was Mrs. Wilmington a killer? He decided it was worth taking another look at her alibi. Picking up his phone, he started on the first of several calls.

Three long days later, Brennan sat at her desk reviewing a case file. Zach came in hesitantly, obviously with some news to impart, but unsure how to do so. He stood in front of her desk, shifting from foot to foot.

Brennan finally looked up at him. "What is it, Zach?"

Swallowing, Zach decided to just come out with it. "Agent Booth just called--"

"I told you I don't want to take his calls--"

"I know, he just wanted me to give you a message. He said 'You were right.' They arrested Mrs. Wilmington for April Manning's murder this morning. Seems she was hoping her husband would be charged with the murder. She wanted to get back at him for humiliating her with the affair."

Brennan smiled, finding some satisfaction at being proven right. She pinned Zach with her gaze. "Good. But I still don't want you to put Agent Booth's calls through."

Zach sighed. Dr Brennan could be very stubborn sometimes. "Yes, Dr Brennan. But I really think..." he stopped, unsure whether he should go on.

Brennan closed her eyes briefly then opened them to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised in query.

"I think Agent Booth's one of the good guys. He just has a few things to learn about the value of forensics in solving cases," Zach said softly.

Brennan considered that for a moment. "You may be right. I just don't know that I have the patience to teach him."

Zach nodded but kept his next thought to himself. 'You may be the best one to teach him.' Smiling at her, he left and she sat thinking about Agent Booth. He was one of the most infuriating men she'd ever had to deal with, but she had to admit, he was good at his job. She wished he'd let her help...

THE END


End file.
